Particles of Her

Brown eyes open slowly,
Has the world woken up?
No. She must be dreaming.
But the world is awake…

A crunch of razor glass
Beneath the heel…of a shoe
Nothing happens except
Lips exercising to the beat of steady complaints

Hands pressing buttons,
Once, Twice, Thrice
Until the message is sent
The point is clear, almost like murky water

Dreams that are real
Dreams that aren’t
Slipping into endless eternity
Forever captured, to tell others

A web is spun
A web for others
To end the lonely ache inside
But does it really subside?

Seen but unheard
Heard but unwilling
She is always right
She is the fight

A princess in a tower
Skirts spun from silk
She made it for the princess
Her pride and her skill

He stands there
“Why don’t I have one!”
She exclaims, waiting for the reaction
Nothing comes.

Anger clouds evaporate
Into particles of sorry
Puddles form
And tears roll out

They have drops of sympathy
She soaks it all up
Dry like a rocky terrain
Until anger forms…again